


New Hampshire

by sidnihoudini



Series: Fork and Knife [13]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Camping, Jock Jams, M/M, Shotgunning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-21 22:42:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11954208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidnihoudini/pseuds/sidnihoudini
Summary: “Here,” Chris greets, unceremoniously squirting a blob of sunscreen right into Seb’s unsuspecting palm. He gives the bottle an extra squeeze, and then turns around. “Don’t forget my ears.”“You can do your own ears,” Seb frowns, trying to divide the sunscreen up into two hands.He does put fancy SPF moisturizer on his face most mornings, but as an adult he’s never personally encountered the greasy drug store coconut shit Chris has bestowed upon him.“You know, I liked you more before I knew everything about you,” Seb comments, rubbing the sunscreen into Chris’s lats.





	New Hampshire

**Author's Note:**

> After spending an entire summer dillying around on this, here we FINALLY are.
> 
> This sucker takes place post-coming out.

_Boston, Massachusetts_

“Maybe if you just jam it…” Seb frowns, trailing off.

Chris, a little out of breath and on his way to sweaty, tugs the bag back out of the trunk, turns it around, and gives it a valiant wedge. 

“What is even in this!” he exclaims, giving it another shove when it doesn’t budge.

That’s for Seb to know and Chris to find out later. He laughs and says, “I don’t know, babe, stuff.”

“Jesus,” Chris sighs, taking a step back to survey his predicament.

It’s eleven in the morning. The plan is to convoy out to New Hampshire with everyone else - but the group text says he and Chris are behind as fuck, and currently the only ones in their group not in attendance at the Dunkin Donuts parking lot.

Yes, there was a perfectly good campsite half an hour away, but no, it had to be out of state. It had to be an adventure, Seb, come on, where’s the fun in driving across town??

“I think I got it,” Chris announces, closing the trunk.

For the first time all day, it actually clicks and locks.

Seb extends a celebratory fist up into the air and then swings his hand down to smack Chris’s butt, also in celebratory fashion.

“Let’s get outta here!” he announces, making a break for the passenger door.

In the backseat of the car, the dog is pumped and ready to go. Seb rests his arm across the center console so Dodger can’t sneak up into Chris’s seat, and then leans forward to watch as Chris squeezes along the driver’s side of the car.

Behind Chris, a couple cars go flying past before he gets a gap big enough to whip his door open, and drop into the driver’s seat.

“Alright,” Chris breathes to himself, turning the ignition and reaching up to adjust his hat. As he stretches one hand back to feel around for his seatbelt, he looks over at Seb and asks, “We have everything, right?”

Seb opens up the group chat: the last message from Jeannie says _SLOW BITCHES >:(_

He laughs and belatedly replies, “We still gotta get ice.”

“Fuck,” Chris swears. He starts to ease the car out of the parking space. “Text that to Mike.”

Nodding, Seb puts his seatbelt on with one hand, and sends Jeannie back a _LOVE YOU !!! :-*_

And just like that, PARTY CITY 2019 is a Go.

~

“Look who decided to show up!” Mike crows, a gigantic bag of ice in each hand.

A group migration from Dunkin Donuts to the gas station down the road happened in the time it took the two of them to drive across town. As they enter the parking lot, Mike is just coming back out of the attached convenience store with their frozen goods.

Chris rolls the car past him slowly, and laughs when Mike has to bounce out of the way so he doesn’t take a bumper to the ass.

“Thanks,” Seb grins, accepting the bag of ice he’s handed through the window.

As Seb awkwardly stretches back to plop the ice in the cooler, Mike points out where their truck is parked beside Jeannie’s car, and says, “I think Christine has coffee for you, too.”

It's another twenty minutes before they’re ready to roll out again. It takes Bogey half of that to get a shitty looking sandwich made at the sketchy deli built out in a corner of the gas station, and then Jeannie runs across the street to get a slurpee from 7-11 specifically.

Seb also sees a window of opportunity for car snacks and cash, so he runs inside for a minute.

“Thanks,” he grins, giving a winning smile to the guy working the til as he gathers up the handles of his plastic bag.

Outside, it looks like everyone is back in their cars. Chris is just closing the door behind Dodger.

“Hey!” Seb calls, tossing a gigantic, family-sized bag of Skittles his way. He cracks up as Chris just barely snags it, one knee popping up to steady it against his belly. “Ready to go?”

Chris nods and then actually looks down at what’s in his hand.

“Oooooh,” he reviews, impressed. “What else did you get?”

As they both drop back into the front seat, Seb shrugs and answers, “This and that.”

“Gummy bears?” Chris asks, raising one eyebrow suspiciously.

Seb gives him a ‘gimme a break’ look, and replies, “Of course.”

They sit there with the engine idling, and crack into their candy while they watch everyone else roll out. Once Christine and Mike’s truck - which is the last vehicle to go - has eased towards the exit, Chris reaches for the gear shift, and reverses out of their spot.

“We’ll get wood out there,” Chris says seriously, glancing back over one shoulder as he backs up. He uses his entire hand to navigate another round of Skittles into his mouth.

Jokingly, Seb asks, “No chainsaw this time?”

“Seb! Babe, if you want me to flex out of my shirt, all you gotta do is ask,” Chris jokes, looking both ways before he reaches for more candy and pulls out onto the main road.

Grinning, Seb sneaks one more look over at Chris, and then settles back with his M&Ms for the journey onward.

~

To celebrate the halfway mark, Seb is instructed to crack open two car beers.

“So they don’t have a job, and they’ve never been on the moon,” he summarizes, pausing to suck the foam that spritzed from the can off of his hand. He looks over at Chris and asks, “Have I met them before?”

Chris nods, and very confidently answers, “Yes.”

“Okay.” Seb wrinkles up his nose. “Is it you?”

“I have a job!” he laughs, a little bit salty, as he scratches his boob.

Debatable. Seb peers off into the distance, and considers his options for a full minute before he asks, “Is it a lady?”

Chris shakes his head and reaches to take a sip of his beer.

“Not a lady, huh?” Seb muses, not sure if he’s willing to believe it. Chris’s man choices usually fall in the neighborhood of Tom Brady and Justin Trudeau, and Seb has already guessed both of them. His list of potentials is dwindling rapidly, so he buys himself more time with, “I’ve met them before, right?”

The question isn’t even all the way out of Seb’s mouth before Chris exclaims, “You already asked that!”

Seb’s favorite thing in the entire world is pushing Chris’s buttons during point-based games.

“I give up,” he shrugs.

“What!” Chris laughs, trying to look over at Seb but also keep his eyes on the road. “Seb! You can’t just give up!”

Laughing despite himself, Seb exclaims, “I don’t have twenty more questions!”

“Ask me one more,” Chris wheedles. “Come on. Just one!”

“Hmmmmmmm,” Seb hums, really dragging it out. He looks out the window, and watches the forest go whipping by. After a minute, he turns back and asks, “Is it Twilight?”

Chris cracks up but also yells, “No!”

“Tell me!” Seb grins back, really turning it on as he reaches over to jab Chris in the side. Chris laughs and dips away, and then laughs some more when the ruckus gets Dodger popping his head up between their seats.

It’s really cute even if it is kind of dangerous. Chris gives a helpless, “Pal,” and tries to shove Dodger’s nose away from where he’s really going to town with his tongue in Chris’s ear.

Seb watches in horror as Dodger gets right up in there for round two, and asks, “Is it the dog?!”

As soon as Chris realizes Seb has caught on, he starts cracking himself up.

“The dog can’t be the thing!” Seb complains, getting Dodger turned around and settled back in his seat.

Chris wipes off the side of his face and tries really hard to keep it together.

“It can be anything, Seb,” he says earnestly, cracking back up before he’s even halfway through.

~

Their shitty little convoy reconvenes fifteen minutes outside of White Lake.

“Jeez,” Seb reviews, frowning out the window as the old-timey, rundown, wood log general store rolls by. He’s read about places like this in Goosebumps. If anyone tells him this cabin was supposed to be torn down in the seventies, he’s outta here.

Chris parks the car, and finishes off the end of his road beer.

“What’s with the face?” he asks, looking over at Seb and leaning his head back against the seat.

Seb frowns and grimaces. “Pilgrim-y,” he explains.

That makes Chris laugh then and reach over to tug him close for a kiss. Seb allows it.

Inside the store, they get a whole bunch of wood bundles. In a twist of fate, Seb also snags a bag of campfire marshmallows after bumping into a beautiful little end cap of them.

“Do you want anything else?” Seb asks, accepting the two energy drinks Chris hands him on his way up to the lone cashier.

Chris shakes his head, but his body is already being drawn towards a wall stacked full of shitty looking Tamworth, NH merch.

“Up from New York, huh?” the cashier comments, when Seb whips out his ID to grab some cigarettes alongside their marshmallows, energy drinks, and wood. “What brings you here?”

He puts it on thick and turns his mouth into a flat line as he answers, “Camping.”

The lady laughs, and then puts on her tiny reading glasses to punch their purchases into an ancient looking cash register. Chris also sneaks up at the last minute and adds a cheap plastic bottle opener to the pile.

“Just in case,” he disclaims, hand coasting low on Seb’s back.

Suspicious, Seb picks up the little item and checks out the design. It’s a black bear with NEW HAMPSHIRE jauntily arched over its head, and it looks like it was mass produced before either of them were born.

Seb laughs and hands it back over so the lady can add it to the total.

“You just like the bear,” he accuses, squinting at Chris’s innocent expression.

Shrugging, Chris runs his hand up the middle of Seb’s back, and hooks his fingers over the curve of his shoulder.

“The heart wants what it wants,” he says placidly.

By the time they amble back into the parking lot, dinky little bag of items swinging from Seb’s hand, everyone is ready for the home stretch. They load the wood into Mike and Christine’s truck, and then Christine and Mike switch out driving duties so Mike can crack into his second beer.

After that, they even manage to make it into the campground as one cohesive group.

“That says registration,” Seb says helpfully, pointing up at the crooked little sign nailed into a tree.

Chris leaves the engine idling and AC on as he runs over to the lone registration hut. In his absence, Dodger both identifies and takes the short window of opportunity to jump up and sit in the usually forbidden driver’s seat.

“Hey,” Seb frowns, but he just refreshed his Instagram feed so he doesn’t bother doing anything else.

The campground already knows they’re coming, mostly because Chris booked and paid for the entire west side of the property: the camping version of a high roller Vegas suite. It doesn’t take him very long to check-in; five minutes later, he’s rolling out with a handful of parking passes and maps.

Seb settles back and watches as Chris does the rounds, handing a copy of each to Mike and Christine, and then Bogey and Jeannie. Mostly he watches because Chris’s butt looks good in those jeans.

As Chris walks back across the dusty parking lot, he squints down at their map.

“Good?” Seb asks, as the door pops back open and Dodger automatically hops into the back seat.

Chris hangs the parking pass off the rearview mirror, and nods.

“Our side is pretty close to the water,” he explains, handing the map over for Seb to consult.

As they start back out of the parking lot and into the campground, Seb checks out what kind of spots this place has to offer. It looks like their side is pretty isolated from the other half of the property, which means they won’t have to be on their best behavior.

“We’ll go one each,” Chris shouts out the car window, which is only halfway down when he starts yelling.

A few feet away, from the passenger side of the truck, Mike yells back, “WHAT?”

“ONE EACH,” Chris shouts again, holding up his pointer finger to demonstrate.

Once everyone is on the same page, they lumber down to the sites nearest the lake.

“I want a good one,” Seb frowns, knocking back against the door as they bump over a pothole on their way through. He studies the map. “Let’s get 33.”

As far as campgrounds go, it’s pretty standard: lots of pretty green trees, dirt packed individual sites, and cartoony signs pointing you to and fro.

Chris nurses a fresh beer as he backs into #33, one hand twisting the wheel with the flat of his palm as Seb puts his phone on airplane mode and then double checks his emergency charger is still in the glove compartment.

It takes a while to set everything up. Seb is not saying anything about anything, but someone is very particular about the tent and best tent assembly practices.

“I’ll get our stuff,” Seb volunteers, pushing himself back up off his heels. If he has to listen to another lecture on how not to bend the pegs when you stomp them into the ground, he’s gonna smack Chris around a little bit, and not in the fun way.

So Seb gets the air mattress going in lieu of doing that.

He originally said this was a late birthday present for Chris, but really, it’s an early birthday present to himself. It’s like a real bed, with a metal frame built underneath and everything. And it really is gonna hold up better under a bone than the other air mattresses of yore.

“I’m gonna take our food and booze over,” Chris calls from outside the tent. Bogey has declared their communal site PARTY CITY, and it sits a few empty sites away. “Do you need anything?”

Seb plugs the thing into the thing, and turns the little built-in air pump on.

“Are you coming back?” he asks, confused, leaning over to pop his head through the door.

Chris is way closer than he expected. His shoes crunch against the gravel as he takes one step closer, and then drops down into a squat so they’re almost eye level.

“I was going to,” he says, leaning in for a kiss and simultaneously pushing the dog away. “We can go back over to eat.”

There is definitely a wiener in Seb’s immediate future. And maybe a hot dog for dinner, too.

It takes fifteen minutes for Chris to make his round trip over to PARTY CITY and back. When he rolls in, it’s with a bottle of water and a smile.

“I said we’d be back in an hour,” he summarizes, zipping the flap closed.

Seb looks over from where he’s spread across the air mattress, and props his hands behind his head.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, eyebrows raising. “You got some plans for the next hour?”

Smiling to himself, Chris sits down by Seb’s feet, and gives the air mattress a little test bounce. He does that one more time before he looks back up at Seb and hedges, “Maybe a nap.”

“Maybe a nap,” Seb teases. “I’ve heard that before.”

Chris grins some more, clearly very proud of himself, and stands up to stash his water bottle where the dog can’t get to it. Seb watches, relaxed and smiling, and laughs when Chris drops back onto the mattress hard enough to make it bounce.

Then he shuffles around, and gets one arm flopped over Seb’s hips.

“I’m kinda sticky,” Chris sort-of apologizes, resting his temple on Seb’s pec. “You smell good.”

Seb brings his arm up and lets it hang across the widest part of Chris’s shoulders.

“Thanks, it’s sweat,” he deadpans.

Laughing, Chris turns his face in, and kisses Seb’s pec through his t-shirt. Seb eyes him as he rests his nose there for a second, just hanging out, and then turns to lay his cheek upon Seb’s boob.

“I do want a nap,” Chris says quietly, cutting himself off with a yawn.

Seb catches the yawn. Even with his mouth all the way open, he slides his fingers into Chris’s hair and murmurs, “Go to sleep.”

~

Post power nap, everyone reconvenes over at PARTY CITY.

“I like the sign,” Seb laughs, checking out the sign Bogey must have whipped up in his founding of PARTY CITY. It’s pretty elaborate: a little sharpie and cardboard number that is jaunty as all hell.

“Aw man,” Chris grumbles. He shuffles in behind Seb, eyes the sign, and looks at Bogey. “Last time you did this, it took forever to get rid of that weird guy who smoked all our weed.”

Jeannie does a drive by and jokes, “Don’t talk about Mike that way.”

Laughing, Seb pats Mike on the shoulder, and drops down into a camp chair. Christine, to his immediate right, hands an open bag of pretzels over.

“Good job on the fire,” Seb reviews, tipping a handful of pretzel sticks into his mouth.

There has been a time or two that Seb took up the firestarter mantel, but he’s really not a natural the way Christine is. Last time they were out on the Cape, she got a fire going - IN THE RAIN - with only a lighter and some salty beach wood.

“This bitch took a fortnight,” she complains. “All that wood was wet in the middle.”

Seb frowns, because that sucks, and says, “Bummer.”

“What!” he hears from over his shoulder. 

It’s Chris, obviously, with a note of scandal in his voice. Seb tilts his head to the side, so he can see over the netted back of his camp chair, and laughs at the look on Chris’s face.

“It was wet,” Christine shrugs, not knowing how else to describe it.

Chris, with his drink in one hand, immediately gets to breaking down the tied up bundles, and laying individual pieces of wood out around the fire. Seb watches for a little while, munching on pretzels and checking out Chris’s butt whenever he bends over.

Once Chris has a good twenty pieces laid out, Seb asks, “Want some help?”

Chris waves him off and grimaces.

“This is highway robbery,” he complains, flipping over the first piece of wood he set down. “Ten bucks for a thing of wet wood. Please.”

Laughing, Seb tucks both hands into the pocket of his hoodie, and tries to kick Chris in the butt.

“Can you get me a drink?” he asks, cutting himself off when he feels something small and hard and strange on the inside of the pocket. This is technically - TECHNICALLY - Chris’s hoodie, stolen because its one pocket style is way better for camping than Seb’s usual two. He pulls out a weird tiny bead and asks, “What’s this?”

Chris squints and steps forward to take the bead from between Seb’s fingers.

“A bead?” he asks, studying it for a moment before he grimaces and throws it directly into the fire.

Frowning, Seb looks up at him, and says, “You destroyed the mystery!”

“Gross, I don’t know where that came from,” Chris complains, wiping his hand off on the side of his jeans like Seb handed him something slimy. “What do you want to drink?”

Seb points at Chris’s beer, and then offers up a dazzling smile and a single pretzel in trade. Both are accepted, but Chris also stoops down to smack a kiss to his mouth, too.

“Thanks,” Seb says a minute later, accepting the fresh beer Chris has fetched for him.

In exchange, he holds another pretzel up until Chris can fit his mouth around it, and then gives him a handful for the road.

Make shows up from he and Christine’s campsite with a tube of red plastic cups, so the next project becomes setting up the card table for beer pong. Pretty soon, Jeannie and Bogey are squaring off in the night’s inaugural round.

Seb, on the other hand, mans the fire with Christine, and considers breaking into his pack of smokes.

“So anyway, it’s all bullshit,” she finishes, wrapping up a tale about how her employer is dicking her over for the millionth time this year. She pokes the fire with a stick aggressively, and adds, “And they can kiss my ass.”

“That sucks,” Seb sighs. He knows nothing about office politics. “I wish I could offer advice.”

He’s just about to continue when Chris comes at him from behind, sneaking both arms around Seb’s shoulders, and pressing his mouth to the side of Seb’s face.

“Advice about what?” he asks, butting in. As an afterthought, he turns his head so he can kind of look at Seb’s face, and asks, “I’m gonna make hot dogs, you want one?”

Seb tilts his head back, and bumps his nose against Chris’s beard and the curve of his jaw.

“Work,” Christine frowns, grimacing over the fire dramatically.

Chris mirrors her expression, and replies, “Gross.”

“I can cook the wieners,” Seb grins, one arm stretching up and across Chris’s shoulders.

Smacking one last kiss to Seb’s eyebrow, Chris agrees, “I’ll get the buns,” and takes off.

A minute later, Seb is inspecting the extra long cooking fork balanced between his thighs. He presses his finger to the pokey part and ow, it’s exactly as stabby as expected. Chris stands beside him, trying to open the package of hot dogs with his keys, even though it’s really more of a knife situation.

“Use your teeth!” Christine calls, cracking herself up when Chris shoots her a horrified look.

After a short yet intense struggle, Seb finally demands, “Gimme.”

He takes his stabby prong, and awkwardly uses it to rip the plastic open. Chris is a little impressed and a little boned up by the manly camping ingenuity he just witnessed, Seb can tell.

“Weiner me,” Seb says, holding the cooking fork steady.

Chris stabs a hot dog onto all four of the tines, but gets a little overzealous with the last one, which instantly breaks in half and lands in the dirt.

“Damnit,” Chris bitches. He squeezes another weiner out of the packet and is extra careful with his tine application.

Once Seb is fully loaded, Chris makes his way back to their food stash to snag some buns and some condiments. Usually Seb is an all toppings on the cart kind of guy, but on account of being in the woods, he’ll settle for the standard ketchup and mustard.

When Chris drops back into his chair beside Seb’s, his arms are at max carrying capacity.

“Are you guys doing hot dogs, too?” he asks Christine, distracted by his load.

Before Christine can answer, Mike yells, “Burgers!” and then a, “FUCK,” when he immediately loses a ping pong ball.

Somehow even with six adults on deck, they all forgot to buy paper plates. It’s going to be a four handed operation. Chris starts them off by holding two buns out, and knocking Dodger away with his foot when he comes sniffing around for another dropped dog.

“Ketchup?” Seb asks, deploying condiments with one hand.

Chris nods, and watches as Seb applies the perfect amount of topping to Chris’s weiner.

They sit and eat two hot dogs each, neither of which are the worst thing Seb has ever put in his mouth. Once Chris has his hands back, he uses his newfound freedom to wiggle their chairs closer together.

“I give it a year before you guys are those people who buy the double seater,” Christine cackles, sitting back down with a fresh drink. “You just gotta lean into it. I’m surprised it hasn’t happened already.”

“I can keep my hands to myself,” Chris lies, arm inching around Seb’s shoulders.

Seb grins, and shuffles the angle of his butt, so he’s leaning in Chris’s direction, too. A double seater would be a recipe for some accidental public hanky panky. He sucks a little smear of extra mustard off his finger, and then wipes his spit off on the thigh of Chris’s jeans.

“JOCK JAMS,” Bogey announces from behind them, before his bluetooth speaker garbles to life.

“Ahhhh, camping,” Chris sighs, leaning back in his chair, relaxed.

~

It’s a good thing Seb has been carb loading all day, because an hour later, he’s on the road to drunk.

“No way!!” he laughs, standing at one end of the beer pong table as Chris shuffles around him, hand steadied against his back. Seb leans into it automatically, but complains, “I don’t wanna be on this team!”

“HEY,” Mike bitches, taking offense.

Seb cracks up as Chris instantly turns on him, too. He wraps his arms around Seb’s torso from behind and tries to lift him up; inevitably, they only stumble forward a little, and Seb spills his drink all over the ground.

“Hands off!” he laughs, even though he’s still holding onto Chris’s hand over his chest.

Chris counters with a solid, “HANDS ON.”

“Hey! HEY. We’re going for the championship finals, here,” Bogey announces.

For the last ten minutes, he’s been trying to rig up a flashlight so they have some more light. So far, the only thing he’s been able to do is attach the flashlight to some string and hang it from a nearby tree like a pinata. His audience grows ever restless.

“Three against three,” Jeannie announces, cracking her knuckles. “Let’s go.”

Drunk Seb doesn’t EXACTLY have beer pong on his side - historically - but he does manage to sink exactly two balls. Both times, Chris yells loud enough to scare the dog.

It’s Mike that leads them to victory in the end, but Chris votes Seb as MVP.

“Thank you, thank you,” Seb laughs, taking a wobbly bow.

When Bogey starts pouring the closing games tequila shots, Seb dips out to pee.

He takes a nice leisurely stroll with the dog, and finds a good place to pee at the back of one of their empty campsites. By the time he gets back to PARTY CITY, everyone is settled back around the fire, snacks and freshly cracked beers in hand.

The only chair left is the one opposite Chris’s, so Seb takes his lap instead.

“You can have your chair back,” Jeannie promises, bent over the fire with a last minute drunk weiner on the roasting stick. “This side just had optimal flames.”

“I’m good,” Seb promises, dropping his head back against Chris’s shoulder.

He pulls his cigarettes out of the cup holder on the chair Mike is now sitting in, and removes the crinkle plastic before leaning forward a little to throw it in the fire. Chris holds onto his waist as he moves, and slides his hands up under Seb’s hoodie once Seb has settled back.

“That is not true at all!” Chris exclaims, loudly countering the tale Bogey is telling to Christine and Mike. Seb laughs and sticks a cigarette between his lips. “I had a permit!”

Relaxing, Seb lights up, and watches the fire some more.

~

They crawl into the tent at 3AM.

“My foot,” Seb declares, laughing helplessly as everything from his ankle down gets stuck outside the tent door.

Chris, faithful in his practice of keeping the door zipped shut, gives Seb about a half a second to get his foot in before he resumes zipping it closed.

He lays on the floor and listens as Chris fiddles with the tent. It’s a little chilly out there. If Seb went nips out, he’d probably regret it.

“Baby,” Seb says - it just slips out, a rare non-babe that only drunk Seb uses.

Somewhere beside him, Chris kicks off his shoes, and asks, suspicious, “Are you gonna puke?”

“No!” Seb replies, scandalized that Chris would even suggest such a thing. He pushes himself up and asks into the darkness, “Where are you?”

A second later, their little lamp clicks on. Chris is barefoot, pantsless, and debating losing his shirt.

Seb immediately stretches one arm out and grins.

“What,” Chris says skeptically, pulling up his shirt. When it’s over his belly, he pauses, and narrows his eyes down at Seb.

It’s not Seb’s fault that he has a suspicious face!

“Nothing!” he counters. Then he rolls both of his lips into his mouth to keep from smiling, but he doesn’t do a very good job. Chris squints at him some more, and loses his shirt before reaching for a pair of sweatpants. Seb oogles him a little longer and says, “Get down here.”

Chris laughs at him, and then drunkenly shambles into his sweatpants.

“I’m not getting down there,” he says, stepping over Seb’s body so he’s got one foot on either side of Seb’s ribs. Seb immediately grins up, and rests both hands on Chris’s ankles. “There are bugs down there!”

Cracking up, Seb stretches both arms out, until Chris grabs his hands and helps pull him up.

“Impressive strength,” Seb comments, flopping back and landing pretty hard on the bed.

As Chris gets ready to crawl in after him, he flexes his biceps - something he would do even if he were sober. Seb is overcome with so much drunken fondness he sits up just enough to pull Chris down on top of him.

“The light,” Chris laughs, landing with a boob in Seb’s face.

Pretty happy with himself, Seb watches Chris’s pec flex, and says, “Fuck the light.”

They’re too drunk to bone, but Seb knows a thing or two about getting handsy in the woods. He tilts his head back so he can grin up at Chris’s face, and slides a hand into his sweatpants.

“Oh you want some, huh?” Chris teases, brushing his fingers through Seb’s hair.

Seb squeezes Chris’s hip and replies, “Always.”

“Fresh!” Chris jokes in a girly voice, surprising a genuine laugh out of Seb.

They watch each other for a minute, until Chris leans in carefully, and leaves his eyes open as he presses a kiss to Seb’s bottom lip. Seb immediately cracks himself up by opening his mouth extra wide, so all Chris gets is tongue.

“Ew,” Chris laughs, propping himself up on one elbow so he can bring his other hand up to wipe his mouth off.

Seb really is feeling very fond right now.

“What’s that look for?” Chris asks, squinting at the expression on Seb’s face. He drops his weight, so they’re properly dick to dick, and nip to nip.

With a smile, Seb wiggles his hips so Chris’s weight is not directly on his boner.

“Just thinking about sucking your dick is all,” he replies sweetly.

Chris stares at him for a second, drunkenly parsing that, and then nods seriously.

“Don’t let me keep you,” he finally says.

Laughing, Seb rolls them over, and climbs on top.

~

Seb wakes up in pieces.

First, he realizes that his one foot is cold. Grimacing into the pillow that is also damp and a little chilly from drool, he wiggles his toes, and tries to tuck his foot back up under the blanket. 

They totally forgot to put the outer layer on the tent last night, so cool 6AM skies are beginning to break above; blues lighting up the line of massive trees that sway in the breeze overhead.

He shuffles a little bit more, and accidentally bumps his foot into the dog, who has also abandoned his bed for warmer pastures.

Seb struggles and rolls himself over. This mattress is way better than a regular air mattress, but man, nothing murders your hip like sleeping on a bag full of air. He settles back down, now facing Chris, and tugs the blanket up over his bare shoulder.

“Mmm, baby,” Chris sleep mumbles, one arm automatically stretching out.

Seb snugs up good, and doesn’t remember falling back asleep.

When he wakes up again, it is blindingly bright out. Dodger is also scratching himself on the floor, and shaking the entire far wall of the tent.

“Hey,” Seb grumbles, feeling a little sweaty now that the sun has come out. Dodger stops, foot up to his ear, and looks at him. Seb blinks back tiredly, and watches as the dog stands up and wanders over to the edge of the bed.

“Gotta get up,” Chris yawns from behind Seb. “Gotta go pee.”

Seb slowly wakes up as Chris climbs his way out of bed and thoroughly shakes out his sweatpants before tugging them back on. He wedges his feet into his sneakers without undoing the laces, grabs the hoodie Seb stole last night, and reaches for the zip of the tent.

By the time Seb follows fifteen minutes later, Chris is standing by the car checking his phone and having a nice morning hangover cigarette.

They wander down to PARTY CITY for breakfast. Bogey is already up and about, cooking up a gigantic thing of scrambled eggs and sausages. Seb shuffles over to his camping chair, tiredly tips it forward, and shakes all the campfire ash out of his seat.

“Babe do you want eggs and sausage?” Chris asks, standing at Bogey’s elbow with a fresh red plastic cup in each hand.

Today’s priority is definitely driving into town to get some paper plates.

“Load me up,” Seb agrees, settling back in the chair and kicking his feet up.

~

Seb reaches out and takes Chris’s hand as they make their way across the tiny paved, slanted, parking lot.

“Should we get more wood?” Seb asks. He means well - they drunkenly burned a lot last night, especially after Bogey started stacking it above the rocks - but he also realizes exactly what he’s done the minute the words are out of his mouth.

“Seb! You can’t be serious,” Chris replies, scandalized. As they reach the entrance, he grabs the door and holds it open. “That wet shit wasn’t worth a penny.”

“Alright, alright,” Seb laughs. As he steps into the store he reaches up and pushes his sunglasses up onto his head. “I want some snacks.”

“Me too,” Chris agrees, grabbing Seb’s butt with one hand.

“Get outta here,” Seb says, not at all meaning it, as he gets distracted with a little display of packets that are supposed to make your campfire have rainbow flames. He immediately loads up with a handful. 

He catches up with Chris in the chip aisle, so stuffed with bags it’s a little too narrow for both of them.

“Hi doll,” Chris greets, extending one arm. Seb dips in, and drops his little rainbow fire packets into the basket waiting at Chris’s feet.

Seb’s chin bumps into the curve of Chris’s chest as he wraps both arms around Chris’s waist and presses a kiss to the side of his neck. Chris rests his arm around Seb’s waist, and tugs him in for a good hug.

“I’m gonna get plates,” Seb says a minute later, even though he doesn’t make the move to leave.

Chris makes an agreeable noise, rests his head against Seb’s, and yawns.

A couple minutes later, Chris has picked out approximately ten different types of chips, and they’re en route to the paper plate aisle together. They snag some plastic cutlery, too, just in case, and some extra cups for beer pong. Seb also blows Chris’s mind by recommending two different colors, one for each team.

“So smart, Seb,” Chris comments, snagging a red stack and also a blue.

~

Back at PARTY CITY, everyone decides to head out for a jaunt down to the beach.

“Here,” Chris greets, unceremoniously squirting a blob of sunscreen right into Seb’s unsuspecting palm. He gives the bottle an extra squeeze, and then turns around. “Don’t forget my ears.”

“You can do your own ears,” Seb frowns, trying to divide the sunscreen up into two hands.

He does put fancy SPF moisturizer on his face most mornings, but as an adult he’s never personally encountered the greasy drug store coconut shit Chris has bestowed upon him.

“You know, I liked you more before I knew everything about you,” Seb comments, rubbing the sunscreen into Chris’s lats.

Chris laughs and tips his head forward, so Seb can get the nape of his neck, too.

“Get my shoulders again,” Chris demands. “I don’t want freckles.”

Seb twists his hand to the side so he can get the sunscreen from where it worked its way all up the side of his finger, and frowns, “I like your freckles.”

“Thanks babe,” Chris replies.

By the time everyone shows up, Chris is as covered in sunscreen as Seb is willing to make him, Mike has loaded up his rolly cooler with enough beer for everyone, and Christine is double fisting two bags of snacks.

“Roll out,” Mike announces.

It only takes about five minutes to walk down to the beach.

They settle in on the sand, where Seb immediately loses his shirt so he can get a nice tan on. Spray tans are well and good but nothing beats the toasty sun.

“It’s bright,” Chris reviews, standing in front of Seb’s towel as he squints out across the water. Seb leans back on his elbows and kicks Chris out of his sun. Chris doesn’t say anything about it, just shuffles to the side and then looks back at Seb over one shoulder to ask, “You wanna go in the water?”

“Ask me again in ten minutes,” he says.

He sticks his crumpled up t-shirt behind his head as a pillow, and shuts his eyes.

~

When Seb wakes up again, he’s a little uncomfortably toasty and Chris’s sunglasses are awkwardly placed on his nose.

“Everyone’s in the water,” Christine says, not looking up from her book. She flips a page.

Seb stretches and yawns, and reaches up to set the sunglasses on his face properly. He lays there for a second, blinking up at the sky, and then groans and rolls onto his side.

“I need a drink,” he finally announces, propping his head up on one hand.

Laughing, Christine blindly reaches for the cooler beside her, and tosses Seb a beer.

As she goes back to her book, Seb sits up properly, cracks his drink, and squints down to the water. He has no idea what kind of game they’re playing, but there’s a football involved, and he can hear shreds of Chris and Mike’s argument from here.

It takes half a beer to shake the remnants of his nap out.

“Seb,” Chris calls, half distracted as he extends one arm in Seb’s direction, and bounces in the water, waiting to catch the ball in his other hand.

Seb wanders in up to his ankles, and stands there sipping his drink.

It doesn’t take very long to realize they’re not actually playing any kind of game. They’re just tossing the ball between three participants - Chris, Mike, and Jeannie, no Bogey because he’s apparently let the team down too many times - and counting how many throws they can get before someone drops it.

“Seb’s my good luck,” Chris says, which is the biggest lie ever, because if anything, Seb distracts him more than helps.

Laughing, Seb says, “Dummy,” with a smile, and walks a little deeper.

The game of catch lasts another fifty throws, and is promptly concluded when Chris fumbles the ball after Seb floats by.

“Bring me another one,” Chris yells at Mike’s back, as he retreats back to the sand for more beer. He watches Mike for a minute, waiting for a confirmation that never comes, and then reaches out to snag Seb by the ankle before he can float away. “Hey, come back.”

Seb cracks up as Chris pulling him gives his previously casual float more velocity, and gets one arm around Chris’s waist before he can rocket in the other direction.

“I’m here, I’m here,” Seb laughs, dropping his weight so he can sit up properly.

He immediately reaches up and wraps both arms around Chris’s neck.

Chris gives him a wet kiss, and then slides his hands down, fingers curling against Seb’s sides.

“I think we’re gonna have a beach fire tonight,” Chris says. Seb’s nose bumps into the front of Chris’s throat and he gets a nice good sniff of sunscreen and lake water. “Just gotta go up to the site and get some food and more booze.”

That actually sounds pretty good to Seb. He nods, and smacks a kiss to Chris’s chin.

~

Seb manages to lose one flip flop to the lake, so Chris gives him a lift back to their tent.

“Don’t drop me,” Seb laughs, trying to hoist himself a little further up Chris’s back.

Scandalized by the very thought, Chris replies, “I’m not going to drop you!”

“Muscles,” Seb says in a funny voice. He stares hard at the side of Chris’s face as Chris navigates them up the last stretch: a slight incline that connects the beach path to the main road. “You’re very strong, huh?”

Chris tries to ignore his teasing, but he ends up cracking.

Between heavy breaths and trying to catch his breath, he laughs, “I hate you.”

Cracking up, Seb flexes his forearms, and tightens his thighs around Chris’s waist.

Once they’re back on paved road, Seb chucks his lone flip flop into a garbage can, and dismounts.

They’ve gotta get some food, the weed, and maybe some warm clothes for later. Seb wouldn’t mind rolling out in something skimpy, but it’s hard to say no to a nice sweatpant. Especially a pair stolen from Chris.

“Hey, your legs got burnt,” Seb comments, watching as Chris drops his wet shorts.

Pausing, Chris looks at Seb first, confused, and then down at his own bare legs.

“I was in the water!” he exclaims, checking out the sweet red line right below his knees. It’s especially noticeable with how perfectly white his thighs are in comparison. “Fuck!!”

Seb doesn’t mean to laugh, but he laughs.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, still smiling, as he squats down to rummage in his bag. This is very expensive and technically for his face, but Chris’s legs are a good investment, too.

Chris eyes it warily. He asks, voice flat, “What’s that.”

“Lay down,” Seb counters. Once Chris is laid out, he can’t help but tease, “It’s a good look.”

“You’re mean,” Chris grumbles, folding both arms across his chest, which is awkward looking when he’s laying down flat and his arms are gigantic.

Trying to keep a straight face, Seb carefully navigates himself onto the air mattress with one knee.

“I’m very nice,” he says, leaning in for a smiley kiss.

Chris doesn’t argue with him, mostly because Seb gives him a couple good ones right after.

“Babe,” Chris frowns, when Seb pulls away.

After warning Chris to tell him if it hurts, Seb pets the moisturizer into Chris’s calves as delicately as he can. His skin lady told him to buy this because it’s got aloe in it, which he’s pretty sure works in Chris’s favor under these exact circumstances.

“Better?” Seb asks, wiping the excess off his palms onto Chris’s thighs.

He then takes the opportunity to rub that in, too.

“A little,” Chris admits, lifting up one leg to look.

Seb switches into yesterday’s sweatpants, and dips out to grab their weed from the car. Chris has navigated himself into a clean pair of shorts by the time he gets back. Despite the sun beating down hard on their tent, Seb zips the door closed behind himself.

“I wish we had a TV,” he admits, crawling over Chris to get to his side of the bed.

The sour look Chris throws him is all the confirmation Seb needs to know he’s not feeling THAT terrible. If it were up to Chris, they’d be camping in a one man tent at the top of a mountain and eating food with their bare hands.

“What!” Seb laughs, popping the tupperware open. “I like my stories, babe.”

Chris doesn’t buy it. He knows Seb too well.

“All you watch is Golden Girls reruns and movies from when Jack Nicholson was still hot,” he frowns.

Seb laughs and picks out one of the million joints Chris has already rolled.

“You think you’re pretty funny,” Seb teases, handing it over. Chris grins despite himself as he sticks the joint in his mouth, and then holds a palm out for the lighter. Seb smacks it into his hand, and comments, “Mike is gonna be mad we hot boxed a tent without him.”

“Fuck Mike,” Chris manages from around the joint between his lips.

After setting the container back on the ground, Seb gets up to change his shorts. They mostly dried in the sun, but they’re still a little damp in the dick region. Not optimal. He gets himself into a pair of fresh undies, instead.

“Good outfit,” Chris reviews, expression relaxed as Seb climbs back into bed.

He holds the joint out, but Seb is feeling lazy, so he just leans forward. Chris holds it for him so he can reach it with his mouth, lips bumping into Chris’s fingers as he takes a drag.

The whole time, Chris watches him with a smile.

~

They’re maybe pretty stoned by the time they emerge from the tent.

“Get my butt,” Seb instructs, standing beside the car in just his undies.

On second thought, he covers his face with both hands. Last time his ass found itself out in the woods, it got bit up by an undetermined amount of bugs. Seb is not going to be the guy who tries to hide the way he’s scratching a butt cheek in mixed company.

“I’m not spraying your butt,” Chris declines, meticulously shaking the can of bug spray.

Seb’s eyebrows knit together as he turns around, looking for both an answer and maybe a saucy little fight. It’s fine, anyways - he doesn’t need Chris. He can spray his own butt.

He watches as Chris startles himself by spraying his own arm.

“No butt,” Chris manages, clearly trying to be reasonable. He waves a limp hand to clear the cloud of fumes he unthinkingly blasted at his own face, and adds, “I don’t want this stuff in my mouth.”

~

Back at the lake, Dodger comes flying up to meet them at the bottom of the path.

“Hi pal,” Chris laughs.

In Seb’s hand, he has the little travel dog bowl that Chris meticulously researched online before shelling out $20 to buy at Target. He shakes it to get Dodger’s attention, and heads over to where everyone is now setting up around their beach fire.

He sets the dog up out of the line of smoke, and then digs through the cooler for two beers.

Chris is busting into a bag of baby carrots when Seb rolls back to the fire.

“Dog’s fed,” he says, unceremoniously plopping down on Chris’s thigh.

Even though Seb doesn’t get a reply, Chris shakes the little bag of carrots until Seb takes one and leans back. He crunches into it, and looks at the fire.

“You’re gonna smother it!” Chris says seriously, throwing a baby carrot at Mike’s head.

Mike looks up from where he’s poking around in the fire with a stick, and counters, “You wanna do it?”

Chris strikes one hand out in a “be my guest” fashion, and holds onto Seb’s hip as he settles back in the chair again. Seb snags another baby carrot and pops the whole thing in his mouth as he watches Mike stab the fire again. He’s gonna have to drunkenly run back up to the car later to get his rainbow flame things.

When Dodger comes sniffing around, looking for more food, Seb provides a carrot.

“Does your phone still have battery?” Mike asks. He’s moved on from the fire to a bluetooth speaker that looks like it’s seen better days.

Chris nods and starts digging around in his pocket.

They get setup with some classic Jock Jamz, and cook the last of their wieners over the fire. It’s way pretty down here at the water compared to up at the sites. The moon’s reflection sparkles off the lake just right.

Seb takes a quick landscape picture; landscapes are generally pretty Instagram friendly.

After packing back two wieners each, Chris, Bogey, and Mike decide to shotgun a beer. Seb maintains it’s a terrible idea, albeit an entertaining one. He reclines in a camping chair, laughs, and sips his beer like a normal person while Christine records the proceedings with her phone.

The flash from the phone is so bright Chris holds one palm out to block it after cracking the tab, which makes Seb laugh and cover his own face with his hand.

“Bogey definitely got that one,” Jeannie judges, from the camp chair across from Seb.

Chris makes a pained noise and presses a hand to his boob as he shuffles through a series of positions, trying to burp without puking.

“You’re so dumb,” Seb cackles, watching Chris over the fire as he flops into the first open chair, which is the one right across from Seb. 

Beside Seb, Christine laughs and nods.

“I lost the ability to shotgun the minute I turned twenty five,” she says forlornly, staring down into the fire. Seb laughs and reaches over to pat her on the shoulder.

Chris blinks the tears out of his eyes and spits into the dirt.

“Chris Evans, so manly,” Seb sighs, stretching to snag his cigarettes. “With his burnt calves in the middle of the woods.”

“You got burnt?” Christine asks, looking over at Chris.

Chris sadly sticks his legs out, and pulls his shorts up over his knees so she can get a good look.

“Ooh,” she reviews, picking up Mike’s poking stick and immediately jabbing it into the fire. “I had sunscreen you could have used.”

“I had sunscreen,” Chris frowns, tilting his ankles to the side, checking out his burn in the light of the flame. When a log pops and a piece of ash goes shooting out, he protectively pulls his leg away. “I should go get sweatpants.”

Even though he’s already got a cigarette out, Seb says, “I’ll come with you.”

He hides the pack of cigarettes back in his chair cup holder, and tucks the loose one behind his ear.

“I can bring whatever you need back,” Chris offers, but he’s already holding one hand out for Seb to take. 

Seb lets Chris tug him out of the chair, and then follows behind him towards the path.

“Alright, now I’m a little drunk,” Chris reviews, narrowly missing stubbing his toes on a root. He takes a hard step to the right and kicks a rock off the path with his flip flop.

Laughing, Seb smacks his butt intermittently as they walk up the narrow path. 

The journey to the tent is interrupted by Chris shuffling off to pee into the trees, and then again when he thinks he hears something in the bushes in an empty site near their strip.

“It’s probably a rabbit or something,” Seb frowns, shining the light from his phone into the trees. “Or maybe a deer.”

“I don’t know, babe,” Chris says, untrusting.

They get going again after staring at the bush - now unmoving - for a solid five minutes.

At the tent, Seb digs around in the stuff they bought at the store earlier. He grabs all the little color packets he bought, and some snacks, because he’s pretty sure there’s more marathon drinking in their immediate future, even if it means they’re driving home hungover tomorrow.

He sticks everything into one bag, and sets that on the floor outside the tent before stepping in.

“Your poor legs,” Seb laughs, sitting down on the air mattress while Chris rummages around in his bag for sweatpants. “Want more cream?”

“Maybe later,” Chris frowns. He drops his shorts and kicks them in Seb’s direction.

“I’m not your mom,” Seb says, but he does pick them up and throw them onto Chris’s side of the bed.

As Chris navigates his legs into his sweatpants, Seb kicks back on the air mattress and watches. Once they’re up around Chris’s hips, Seb extends a hand and makes grabby fingers. Chris wanders over, and stands in front of Seb as he tries to turn his hoodie from last night right side out. Seb takes the opportunity to get a little grope on.

“Don’t bone me up,” Chris requests, sticking one arm in, and then the other.

Seb eases up on the hands, but counters, “You’re always boned up.”

“Not always,” Chris replies, head popping through the head hole of his hoodie. He tugs it down and frowns to himself, “Just when you’re around.”

Seb grins and climbs back out of the air mattress so he can wrap both arms around Chris.

“That’s pretty cute,” he says quietly, leaning in until his nose bumps beside Chris’s.

“Just a little cute,” Chris counters, tugging the hood up over his head and slightly over Seb’s.

It’s a big hood, but it isn’t bigger than Seb’s gigantic head.

~

Back at the lake, everyone is roasting marshmallows and talking shit over the fire.

“We definitely thought you passed out,” Christine says, as Seb and Chris reclaim their two seats by the fire. Christine laughs and turns her marshmallow over. “Bogey tried to follow after you, and he is DEFINITELY passed out.”

Seb thinks back to the rustling in the bushes.

“If we can’t find him tomorrow,” Seb says, reaching for his cigarette. “I have an idea of where he might be.”

He lights up, and watches Christine construct her completed smore. He’s never been very good at the marshmallow part. He either catches his on fire right away, or bumps it into something gross. Last time they went camping Chris got so mad watching him try to roast a marshmallow, he ended up burning his own.

“He always turns up,” Christine shrugs, unconcerned.

At the first lull in conversation, Mike interrupts with a serious, “You wanna do another shotgun?”

Seb rolls his eyes and says, “Oh god.”

“Anytime,” Chris shoots back.

“Go down to the water,” Christine grimaces, squishing her smore together. “If you puke, I don’t wanna see it.”

“We’re not gonna puke,” Mike lies.

As they both start getting up out of their chairs, Jeannie returns from what Seb assumes was a bathroom break or clothes change.

“I’m in!” she declares, because you can hear both of them from a mile away.

“Seb,” Chris grins, extending one hand like that’s gonna be enough to convince Seb. He immediately laughs and shakes his head. “Babe, one. One, Seb!”

“Do it, do it,” Jeannie chants, rummaging around in the cooler.

Seb groans but does start to push himself up out of the chair.

“Just one,” he agrees, accepting the wet, condensation covered can with the hand that isn’t holding his cigarette. It’s still cold, but it’s not as cold as they were when they first added ice to the cooler at 2PM. 

“Now I feel left out!” Christine exclaims, halfway through her smore. She stands up, both hands covered in sticky marshmallow and chocolate, and muffles out, “Give me a minute.”

Seb laughs and bumps his arm into Chris’s as they stand there waiting for her to work the entire half a smore into her mouth, and then wipe both hands off on her jeans.

Chris smiles back and tugs Seb in by the the head for a kiss.

“Alright,” Christine manages after a minute, swallowing one last time. “Ready.”

They prepare by standing in a half circle a few feet away from the fire. Seb hasn’t shotgunned a beer in a very long time because he’s a good influence, but he still stabs the bottom of the can just right before passing Chris’s keys back to him.

“One, two, three!” Mike counts, and then there’s gulping silence as they all try and chug.

Jeannie gives in first. She pulls her can away with an, “AHH,” and lets the remaining beer empty out into the dirt.

That makes Christine laugh. She stops drinking so she doesn’t choke.

Seb is the first one to pull a victorious empty can away. He even shakes it to prove there’s no beer left before he throws one fist up into the air.

“Winner!” Jeannie laughs, still letting the rest of hers dribble out.

Chris and Mike finish pretty much neck and neck, and Christine comes through in part two of her shotgunning to actually finish the can.

“Jesus, babe,” Chris pants, looking pained yet impressed as he shakes the last little bit out of his can.

Shrugging, Seb says, “I’m a champion swallower.”

He pretends like he’s going to crush the can in his hand. It just ends up crinkling a little bit, but he gets his point across very likely.

~

Before going to bed, they make a solid group effort to get through their remaining beer n snacks.

Usually closing ceremonies involve burning a bunch of trash in the fire and arguing over it, but tonight, Seb takes the opportunity to dump his rainbow sprinkles onto the wood instead. As the flames burn and turn different colors, they all sit around the pit, rapt and drunk.

“Bedtime,” Chris yawns a little while later, stretching both arms up into the air.

Seb nods and catches the yawn.

On the journey back to their tent, Chris gets some good squeezes in on Seb’s butt. He tries to look extra innocent about it, too, but the hand he wiggles in under the waistband of Seb’s sweatpants says otherwise.

As they reach their campsite, Chris’s hand drifts back out, fingers smoothing over Seb’s far hip as he slides his fingers up under Seb’s shirt and along his ribcage.

“Did you get bit?” Chris asks, letting go to bend down and unzip the tent.

He barely gets the first part unzipped when Dodger pushes through and heads right over to his bed.

“I don’t think so,” Seb frowns, trying to take inventory. If he did get bit, it was definitely through his clothes. He checks the only skin he’s got showing - his feet - but they both look okay for now. “I think I’m safe.”

Chris holds the tent door open for Seb to crawl into, and closes it once they’re both inside.

“Where’s the thing,” Chris says unhelpfully, as Seb switches the light on. “Thanks doll.”

After losing his hoodie and t-shirt to the ground, Seb crawls approximately onto his side of the air mattress and sprawls out. One of his back-up flip flops immediately slides off.

“Night pal,” Chris says to the dog. Seb closes his eyes as he listens to Chris rummaging around, getting ready for bed.

It’s a couple of minutes before Chris crawls onto the air mattress, too. His first order of business is sitting on the backs of Seb’s thighs, and tugging down the waistband of his sweatpants until the elastic is under his butt.

“Hey,” Seb laughs, but also arches his hips up off the bed.

Chris grins and leans down to kiss Seb’s bare shoulder. He jokes, “Just checking for bites.”

Cracking up, Seb pushes himself up onto one elbow and twists around at the waist, so he can get one hand at the back of Chris’s head and pull him in for a kiss. Chris leans forward automatically, one hand relaxing on Seb’s butt as the other one rests on his hip.

They kiss for a minute and then Seb pulls away and pushes Chris’s head down.

Chris laughs as he goes back to Seb’s shoulder, nose bumping into the curve of it as he nuzzles his way along Seb’s skin. Seb feels pretty pleased with himself as he settles in, resting his cheek on the back of his hands as Chris gets down to the small of his back.

When he feels Chris’s mouth on his tailbone, he grins and pushes his butt back.

“What, do you want something?” Chris asks, laughing a little as he lightly bites at Seb’s flank.

Seb laughs too, but curls to the side as he manages, “Ahh, that tickles!”

He feels the huff of Chris laughing against his skin, before Chris stops mouthing at him long enough to grab one side of his butt. Seb twists himself around so he can see what Chris is getting up to, and it’s exactly what he expected: staring at Seb’s butt as he alternates between squeezing and jiggling it.

“You can get closer if you want,” he recommends, grinning when Chris laughs and looks up at him.

It doesn’t take long for Chris to get to it after that. Seb initially stays pushed up on one elbow, twisted a little at the hip, but then it feels so good he drifts back down until he’s making noises into the pillow and arching back against Chris’s mouth.

“Babe,” Seb manages, but cuts himself off with a groan when Chris gets his fingers going, too.

Instead of finishing off his thought - which was going to be somewhere along the lines of ‘get up here and fuck me’ - he nods his head a little and goes back to holding onto the pillow with one hand and reaching for Chris’s head with the other.

Chris moves back up so he’s sitting on Seb’s thighs again, then resumes with fucking Seb with his fingers. Now that Chris is in this position, Seb can feel his hard on rubbing against the back of his thigh.

It feels good, but Chris’s fingers are curving at the perfect angle to make Seb come real quick if he’s not careful.

Seb reaches back to rub at Chris’s dick through his sweatpants, and uses that window of distracted opportunity to roll over onto his back. As soon as he gets face up, he pulls Chris down on top of him, and can’t help himself from getting handsy as Chris kisses him good and hard.

He squeezes Chris’s pecs and tries to push them together but they’re just too firm - they might have bounce but they don’t have give. Doesn’t stop Seb from frequently checking, though.

Chris breaks their kiss to stretch for the lube, which is in a small pile of assorted items beside the air mattress that also includes the car keys and Seb’s retainer. Seb takes the opportunity to get his pants the rest of the way down.

“I’ll get them before we fall asleep,” Seb lies, when he hears Chris’s initial spider alert noise. It sounds a lot like his don’t let people follow you around Starbucks noise.

To double down on his lie, he follows up with the most charming smile he’s got. Then he smiles for real when Chris gets back on top of him.

“Open this,” he requests, handing Seb the lube as he kicks out of his own pants.

Seb does - but he also demands, “Get in here,” as soon as he has a hand full of lube ready to go.

Chris stays straddled over Seb’s thighs as Seb jerks him off, enough to get him nice and lubed up but also long enough for Seb to appreciate the feeling of Chris’s dick in his hand. He pushes it up against Chris’s lower belly just for fun, and lets it flop back down against his own hip.

“Babe,” Chris frowns, wiping the smack of lube off Seb’s skin so it doesn’t get all over the only place they have to sleep.

“Do it,” Seb grins, raising his eyebrows.

Chris doesn’t bother arguing, just flexes his pelvic muscles so his dick moves. A classic dick trick by request. Seb grins and pulls him down into a kiss again, both hands going down to rest on Chris’s hips.

They can’t really go hard in their current locale, primarily because this is a really nice air mattress and Seb would like to sleep on it again in the future, but also because the tent might shake and Seb really doesn’t want to wake the dog up.

Chris seems to read his mind. He breaks their kiss as Seb rolls over onto his side. When Chris settles back down, he does so with one knee on the bed behind Seb, and the other between Seb’s opened thighs.

As Chris starts to press into him, Seb reaches down to jerk himself off.

He groans at the feeling of Chris’s dick in him and his hand on himself, and presses his face into the pillow as Chris takes a minute to get himself together.

“Jesus,” Chris finally whispers, shuffling his lower half forwards, so the front of his thighs are pressed firm against the back of Seb’s. Seb feels Chris’s fingers tighten where they’re holding onto Seb’s hip.

Chris pulls out slow, and thumps back in good and hard.

Seb can’t help himself from groaning. He forgets he’s jerking himself off and flops harder back against Chris’s front, head rolling against the front of Chris’s shoulder as Chris starts getting into a rhythm.

It’s slow enough that Seb feels everything. He’s already a little shaky and dick drunk when Chris loops his forearm under Seb’s knee, and raises it up high so he can get a better angle.

Seb gives up pretending he’s keeping it together; the change in position gets a noise out of him that he doesn’t even mean to make. As Chris starts fucking him good, he reaches a hand up out of habit, but his fingers just bump into the tent wall.

He lets his arm stay stretched out for a minute before he realizes there’s nothing here to hold onto, and rests it along the stretch of Chris’s shoulders instead.

In this position, Chris is close enough that they can kiss. Seb is chewing on his own mouth and staring at Chris’s face when Chris seems to get a similar note. He does it a little different than Seb is thinking, though, and leans down to press his open mouth over Seb’s nipple, instead.

Seb closes his eyes and sets his fingers in Chris’s hair as Chris sucks and licks at his pec. He wants a kiss still, but this is pretty good too.

They haven’t properly boned the whole time they’ve been here, so Seb doesn’t even try to keep it together. He comes when Chris gives him a series of solid slow bangs in a row that make Seb’s eyes close whether he wants them to or not.

He jerks himself off and then pulls Chris down for a good kiss.

Chris leans into the kiss until Seb’s hips finish pumping up and down.

“Don’t come in me,” Seb pants, flexing his hips down into Chris’s thrusts because it’s fun to see that stupid look on his face.

Dealing with an ass full of come in the middle of the woods while he’s still a little bit drunk is not Seb’s vision of a perfect Sunday night.

Chris nods, and gets a couple more thrusts in before he’s reaching down to pull out. Seb stretches his leg up and over to Chris’s other side, so Chris is kneeling between his thighs rather than behind both of them.

“Uh,” Chris says, astute as ever, as he stares down at Seb’s body and jerks himself off.

Seb rests both hands on Chris’s thighs and flexes his stomach muscles so they look extra good. 

The second Chris’s torso starts rolling and his pelvic muscles start to flex, it’s all over. He jerks off all over Seb’s abs, and then flops down on top of him when he’s done. Seb is still panting a little bit. He gets one arm up and around Chris’s shoulders as Chris tucks his face into Seb’s neck.

Now that Seb is not all boned up he’s feeling how stuffy it is in here for the first time. Maybe he can convince Chris to get out there and peel off the outer layer of the tent that they forgot to put on the first night, but reattached for the second.

He runs his fingers through Chris’s hair and lays there looking up at the ceiling of the tent and the way their little lamp thing throws weird shadows all across it.

Out of everything in the entire world, it reminds him of The Lion King.

“When you were a kid, did you ever have a crush on Scar?” he asks.

Chris is still flopped across him, a starfish except for the one hand he’s got on the top of Seb’s head. His fingers curl against Seb’s scalp.

There’s silence for a second before he admits, “Jasmine.”

“Always the exotic ones,” Seb cackles, cracking up despite himself.

Chris makes a ‘mmm’ agreeing sound against the side of Seb’s neck, and then reaches down to feel around for their top blanket.

“Hey,” Seb frowns, kicking it away from Chris’s hand. “My open invitation for you to jerk off all over me only stands if you clean it up after.”

Chris laughs tiredly, but pushes himself up and squints down at Seb’s face.

“Did you really think Scar was hot?” he asks. He clearly can’t help himself as he passionately adds, “He was evil!”

Seb shrugs, “He’s a pretty good cat.”

“I don’t know, Seb,” Chris says seriously, up on his knees as he scans around the bed for something to clean up with. When he doesn’t immediately find anything, he stands up properly and rummages around in Seb’s knapsack because it’s closest.

Yawning, Seb waits around until Chris comes back with a pair of undies.

“I was gonna wear those tomorrow,” Seb frowns, but it’s too late because Chris is already gingerly wiping off his own stomach with them.

Chris grins as he climbs back into bed.

“Sorry bout that,” he lies, leaning in for a kiss.

~

The next morning, Seb treats himself to a nice breakfast cigarette alongside his coffee.

Technically the plan is to reconvene in town for one last family breakfast before everyone goes their separate ways, but Seb can’t turn down the last cigarette in the pack.

“Alright,” Chris announces, bodily slamming the trunk door. “All done.”

Seb holds one arm out and waits until Chris dips under it for a hug. Both his hands sneak around Seb’s waist, and Seb has about one more second of solitude before the grip tightens and Chris tries to pick him up.

“Get outta here,” Seb laughs, trying to hold his cigarette out of the way.

Chris doesn’t really get him up off the ground, but he does resume the tight squeeze and give Seb a good hug, nose tucking into his shoulder and all.

~

“See you later, man,” Mike says, giving Seb a fist bump and then a half hug as they all announce their departures in the little restaurant parking lot.

Seb pats Mike’s back and then goes in to hug Christine next.

“I’ll be in LA next month,” Christine says, squinting into the sun over Seb’s head and bringing one hand up to try and block it. “I’ll text you.”

After everyone says their goodbyes, he and Chris and the dog walk back to the car.

“That was a pretty good weekend,” Chris reviews, plugging his seat belt in.

Grinning, Seb reaches for his sunglasses, and tries to temper his expression as he shrugs and says, “Yeah, I guess it was alright.”

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you're still liking/reading F&K! I've noticed a general decline in comments/kudos, and I'm genuinely interested to see if people are still reading. Saaaanx.
> 
> You can also find me [on tumblr](http://sidnihoudini.tumblr.com)


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